The song

It’s a beautiful song
My heart sings it.
The trees down the road
Seemed to sing it too.

Did you hear? Do you see?
That plush red tree
At the end of my lane
That understood my vein
The melody arcane
And then jumped in the refrain
Moving its leaves

In an elegant rhythm
Taking my song 

To a higher new realm

That lady on the road
Seemed to catch my song
And smiled widely in turn
Carrying the smile along

I enter my room
It greets me with the song
Welcome back, oh friend!
Let us sing along

A whole new world chimes in
And joins in my glee
The harmonium, the tabla
Add another layer to the symphony

The spring in my walk
Oh! Where did it spring from?
This contentment along the sojourn
Carrying me lightly along

It was you, I know
In whose praise, this song flows
Endlessly, boundlessly
And it still goes

Of prose and poetry

Hello Reader

You might have noticed a sudden rush of poetry on this serious prose-ey blog here. I have to admit that I have been influenced by somebody lately and the poems that you see are the output of that influence.

I have figured out that there is something exceptionally beautiful about poetry - it is something that lends it a certain kind of creative 'freedom' - freedom to embed every word with a plethora of feelings - dense, intense feelings, and yeah it is much more malleable unlike prose. It can be open to as many interpretations as there are readers and every single interpretation has a strange quality of making it personalised.

Some moments, some feelings get so beautifully frozen in time and space through a poem. And I see an element of cryptography there - because at the end of it you could get to the person who you are writing it for without making it completely transparent too - while others get a different personalised flavor out of it :P - you get what I mean, right?

Do check out my senior Rasagya's blog that is the fount of inspiration for my poetry, - here's it www.rasagya.blogspot.com

Happy reading!!!

Catharsis

I love the way you do it
That annoyance, that toughness
Which take the smile off my face


And catapult me into
Another world
Of silence, emotions and distances
Of dampened joys
Of ghazals and sad songs
Which ignite a different me
And inspire poetry
And voyages into self
Away from all power and pelf
And detachment above all


I'm so glad about this barrier
That keeps you from understanding my poetry
For if you did
Your eyes would go moist over it
And then I wouldn't have liked to see
The catharsis that would have followed

Doormat

Today
Her gait is different
Devoid of gaiety
She walks ahead slowly
Gazing down with gravity
At the floor patterns below

Was it wrong
To stoop so low
In the ambition to attain
That exalted stage?
Oh that is the way
They treated her behold
Like a doormat
Of a bygone age

Where do you draw the line, she asks
Between ego and self esteem
For she has reached the nadir
Of the latter
And now looks up to see

The dust of their hubris
Covering her face
Her soul left behind
In that maddening race...

...melting moments

The shyness of my being
It so happened
That I tried to discover them through mere glances

Glances that met
Some were answered
Others were overlooked

As if I was a transparent figure
And the figure behind would pre-empt
The space I would so covet

And now some of those lovely
Gazes have mellowed
Into avuncular, cheering smiles

When I would greet them in silence
I would be greeted back
By sparkling eyes
And melting facelines

And my faith in life
and persistent smiles
Would grow strong and stronger